


What if it's you?

by Saturnart



Category: Fallout 3, Fallout: New Vegas
Genre: Age Difference, F/F, F/M, Love Confessions, One Night Stands, Poetic, Trans Character, Tumblr Prompt, Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-08-19
Updated: 2019-08-22
Packaged: 2020-09-07 21:03:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 2,907
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20315983
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Saturnart/pseuds/Saturnart
Summary: Mostly prompt fillersWill take requests





	1. Yearn- Charon and Female Lone Wanderer

**Author's Note:**

> Hi  
For the most part, I will try to keep descriptions of the Lone Wanderer and the Courier minimal so you can imagine your own characters here if you want, but there will be a few chapters where I insert my own Lone Wanderer and my own Courier.

God, she was soft.

  
Soft yet rough with a baby face and a foul mouth. He'd never met anyone like her in all his years. She was a mess of chaos and love and pain. The wastes had hurt her, ruined her in ways it did not have the rights to, she knew this. She tried hard to cover her bruises with smiles and to conceal her scars with lace, she wanted to be soft and soft only. A soft, delicate little flower with a heart made of glass. She was though, didn't see it in herself anymore, he did. He saw it in the way she would bury her face in Dogmeat's fur each morning without fail. In the way she would look at the moon and the sky and the sun as if they were the most beautiful gift God had given her. In the way she cares, she cares so much that she feels as though she will bleed if she does not help. In the way she had asked him to be patient with her, explaining she was still learning how to trust.

God knows where he would be if she hadn't found him.

She found him in the dark and took him into her sunlight, her glow and her warmth. The gold dust on her fingertips against his rotting cheek after a fight, the huskiness of her voice in the evening when she said goodnight, the agonising ache he had for her when he would curl up in his bed, his bed that she had gone out and salvaged for him.

At first, he thought she was scared of him but when his name dripped like honey from her lips, he realised he was scared of her.

He knows he shouldn't want her, he knows it's wrong to want his hands on her hips, her body in his lap while she begs for him and mewls around him, because he knows far less gentle hands have held her before. Left her broken in pieces that she had to fit together again, alone. She has never told him, but he knows, he can see it when she twitches at night and when she whimpers in the dark.

She shouldn't want him either, he was grotesque, decaying and rough. Too rough for an angel, he told her this when she kissed him for the first time but she laughed, oh she laughed that heartbreakingly beautiful laugh. She took his face in his hands and spoke his name.

  
"Charon, we are two imperfect people, perfect for each other."

  
That was enough for him, he was on her in seconds, lips to hers and her back to the wall. Within moments his fingers were in her mouth and a hand was between her legs, her prayers in his ear as she begged and moaned. He learned there and then that her moan was the origin of the universe.

  
He fucked her that night, softly and nervously like he believed she would shatter but she only laughed again, pulling him flush to her and begging for him to go faster. He wanted to hear her scream and scream for him she did, shouting into the Wasteland for God to hear. It was his turn to trace her scars, mouthing them and praising them, his thumb rubbed over the bullet wound on her hip and he remembered the day she got it, his lips ghosted the burn on her forearm and he could feel the heat from the flamer that gave it to her.

  
She came around him, hard and deep while her body clenched and twitched, his name spilling from her like a prayer she had recited all her life. He decided there that he would die for her.

  
How long would he want her?

As long as she wanted him.


	2. Satisfy- Craig Boone and Female Courier.

She was not Carla. 

He had to keep reminding himself of that when he looked at her. If his glance was quick enough, he saw her there but only for a split second, then she was gone. Replaced with Six who was furiously strong and dangerously beautiful in her own odd way, but she was not Carla.

When she cut her hair short, he saw her again. He saw her in the mirror reflection and in the strands of blond that fell into the chipped sink and scattered at her bare feet. Carla was there in that satisfied smile but when she turned to show him, it was just Six, running a hand through ridiculously short locks with a grin just as ridiculous as the hair.   
"What'cha think? Does it suit me?" She asked, scratching at her scalp. He was silent, clenching his jaw before letting out a grunt.  
"It's nice."

  
She was not Carla.

Six wasn't aware both of them were playing the same game. She spent every waking moment with him reminding herself that he was not the man she had once loved, the man she had given her life to, the man she had married. Craig was not her husband, he was dead and gone. When they would rise in the morning, forced from their slumber by the Mojave heat, she would roll over to face his back and would reach out, ready to kiss him and love him. But she would stop.

It was just Boone, just Boone...

She came back when he found her dancing around their motel room. He had heard the radio from outside, shaking his head and opening the door to her throwing herself around the room, no shoes on as usual. She spun around the room in such a blur that it could have been her, ethereal in a prewar dress, a relic of beauty lost to the dust of the Mojave. But when she stopped to grin at him, it was Six.

  
She isn't Carla.

He was there again when Boone taught her to snipe. He had commented on how she holds a rifle wrong and before long, they had perched on a clifftop, flat on their stomachs but close enough that they could feel the heat form one another. Boone whispered rough instructions in her ear and when he grew tired of her inability to follow directions, he rolled closer and put his hand on her shoulder, guiding her hold on the gun. His calloused hand rested over hers while he explained the way around the rifle but she wasn't listening. She was watching him, yearning for his touch, for his lips and wanted everything he had. But she only nodded, fired slightly better than before and reminded herself.

  
It was just Craig.

* * *

"Carla..."

  
Her name could have shaken the earth, caused the sun to explode, the oceans to dry out. He didn't mean to say it, it was the last thing he wanted. Six had stiffened beneath him, the grip on his shoulders tightened and her nails dug deep into his skin. The sweat dripped from his forehead and settled in the junction between her neck and her shoulder, he trembled and she could feel him pulling away. She kept her grip on him, silently begging him to come back, hooking a leg around his hips.

  
"It's okay... It's okay Craig."

  
He choked on air, burying his face into her breasts while his hips snapped forward once more, pulling a groan from them both that turned into sighs. The sound of slapping skin and the smell of sex filled the room, both of them living in the fantasy that was each other's bodies. He came deep in her, buried all the way inside of her while she spoke her husband's name and he replied with Carlas. She rode him after that, both of their eyes closed as they refused to face the reality of the situation, she would never be Carla, she did not have her warmth or her joy. He could never replace the man she used to love, she would never be able to tell him things she wouldn't say out loud. They would never show each other the parts they weren't proud of, they would never share the ins and outs of their bad days. They cared for each other, but god, they would never be enough. She wasn't filled with the same passion and love, she wasn't delicate like her, she was almost the opposite of her.

  
She wasn't Carla.

  
He wasn't her husband.

When he woke up, she was gone, to where he didn't know. She would come back, she would never leave for good, no, she would come back later that evening in a new layer of dust and grime with a bag of goodies to show for it, then she would drink and he would join her. Her absence was enough for him, it was a message that he needed. It wasn't done out of ill will or hatred, there was no hatred in either of their hearts for the other. Only love, but not the love they needed. She did it to help, it was her silent message to him.

  
She was never going to be Carla and she was happy with that.


	3. Greed- Vulpes Inculta and Female Courier

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Possible trigger warning: No r*pe but maybe non-con elements(?) Complete consent is given from both parties but there is an element of uncomfortableness and disgust on the Couriers part.

"You deserve this, you deserve me."

Yes, she deserved this. She had earned these touches, the whispers in her ear, the lips on her breasts, the hand between her legs. She told herself this to make it easier, both of them had waited so long, lusted for months, both wanting something completely different. He had barely even started and she was shamelessly drenched, waiting and open for him. She knew she needed this, needed him to touch her and to want her. That was the most important part, he needed to _want_ her, to want her for himself. She had played him well, played the part of the dainty desert flower, delicate and childish with the way she would bat her lashes at him or rest a hand on his arm when they sat together.

  
Vulpes wasn't as smart as they said, not to her. No, she was smarter than him, stronger than him, prouder than him. Caesar had seen the gleam of competition in her eyes, laughing as he told him he might have met his match. He had allowed a smirk but thought nothing of it, good, she didn't want him to, she wanted him to think she was beneath him, therefore the shock would hit him harder than should be possible when she did the things he could not do.

  
When she so easily finished destroying the monorail, when she simply wandered into Camp Forlorn Hope and slaughtered everyone there without a second thought. The way she scared off almost anyone from questioning his eyes on the strip. Sometimes she would bring him the heads of wanted NCR officers as a gift, she would sneak him glances when she handed in fistfuls of dog tags to Aurelius, a look that conveyed a message. 

'I'm better than you' is what it said.

She had even forced her way past Otho and tore through every single challenger he had available. When she was finished, she walked out past the crowds of soldiers that parted for her and cowered in fear. She was soaked in their blood, dust and guts staining her hair, but this time she did not even look at him.

  
He was nothing to her.

  
Yet here she was, naked and vulnerable beneath him, his fingers inside her with his horrid mouth latched onto her neck. He sucked and bit her, marking her and that was fine. She wanted him to, it would be easier that way. Six could feel the hidden rage in his grip, in how he forced his fingers deeper inside her with each flick of his wrist. She did not show it, did not push him away like she wanted to. Instead, she arched her body up into him, moaning like a Gomorrah whore as he fucked her with his fingers. She did not want him, she had no love or lust for him or his cock but she would take it inside of her.

And she did, speaking nothing but filthy words of encouragement when he flipped her onto her front and slid his cock deep inside of her, leaning forward again to sink his teeth back into her neck. She could hear how wet she was, her come spilling out of her and around him as she gripped the sheets and mewled for him, begging him, telling him how much she loved the feeling of him inside her. She wanted to be sick in all honesty, she felt disgusted with the words she spoke, telling him how she wanted to be his, that she wanted to give him an heir. 

"Yes sir." she said.

"Your cock feels so good." she wailed.

"You're so deep inside of me." she moaned.

"Please fill me with your come, give me your children" she begged.

She did not want _him_.

She wanted what he had, she wanted his authority and his command, she wanted his position, she wanted the throne.

She would never stop wanting.

Vulpes wanted her, god he wanted her. She knew it. All his life he had been taught that women were beneath him, that he was strong and they were weak, that their sole purpose was to bear children and serve men. Then he met her, the Courier. The men called her Mulier ex Inferno, Woman of Hell, they say that she brings death wherever she goes. Some of the more fearful men even say she is the reincarnation of Nerio, the wife of Mars, or they would claim she was Venus herself. They were scared of her and rightfully so. He was not afraid, no, he was in awe and he lusted. He had wanted her since the moment he saw her, bloody and beaten from the force of the Mojave as she picked her way through the corpses of Nipton. She had smiled at him that day, listening with a face of wonder and admiration. She was perfect.

  
And he had her, underneath him and waiting, her legs spread and her cunt open to all of him and he would take her, she would have whatever she wanted. Clothes, coin, wine, fruits, her own slaves, what she wanted would be hers. She would become a Frumentariia, she would be his wife, she would have his children. She would be his forever.

He wanted her.

  
She wanted his power.

She would have it.

  
He would have her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is to be read with the mindset that the Courier has very evil karma  
She and Vulpes are not nice people  
Vulpes especially


	4. Heaven- Rose of Sharon Cassidy and Female Courier

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Request for a lovely reader  
Not as explicit as the others and it's a little shorter, I hope that's okay:)  
I really like these two.

She was never really religious, but she thinks she might have found her Heaven.

  
She used to be afraid, oh so afraid. Scared of the world, of the sounds of the Mojave, of things that went bump in the night. Six had stopped being herself a long time ago, she didn't even know who she was anymore, since bullets engraved with betrayal found their mark in her skull. Courier Six had been shown no love from the Heavens above, sometimes she wondered if the world gave her scars because they thought that was best for her.

  
No matter, she stopped believing, she stopped praying.

  
Until she met her Angel in the glimmer of red locks of fire, she could sense her in the bitterness of the kisses they would share over a bottle of honey tinted whiskey.  
Whiskey Rose, her Angel sent from whatever Heaven had been kind enough to give her a break, to decide that the Mojave had taken enough from her, to let her rest.  
Signs of Heaven would come to her at the strangest moments, sometimes it was when Cass was simply in her presence, nursing a bottle in one hand and the Couriers hand in her other. Other times it was when she was knocking people upside the head and throwing herself across bars just to throw a punch.

Occasionally it was when she would trail her fingers along the curve of Six's hips in the morning, soft nails gently tracing the bare skin before they would be replaced with chapped lips. Mouthing along the scars and wounds, whispering sweet nothings that other people would never be able to imagine, especially from Cass' mouth. That was good, Six didn't want people to imagine it, to expect it, Cass was her own little slice of Heaven, hers and hers alone.

  
Cass' hands would start to roam, spreading her legs and Six would open up a part of herself long gone to the rest of the Wasteland. A part that was vulnerable but trusting, gentle and bold, as if her Angel had swept down from Heaven and stolen her fear. Cass did not take this part for granted, being ever delicate with her, curling her fingers gently and coaxing the sounds from her. Encouraging and beaming, kissing her neck as she came, telling her she was good and that she was _proud_ of her.

  
Neither of them were fools, they knew that soon enough, Six would retreat back into herself, fearful once more and flinching at the dust of the Mojave. But they knew she was trying, she had found her Heaven, Six knew that Cass would always be there.

There would be hard times ahead, time would change and the road would be bumpy.

  
But for now, Six let herself rest in the arms of her Heaven for she had spent so long looking for it. She would never let it go.


End file.
